Ruling Hearts
by larc501fan
Summary: After Francis' difficult decision to keep his distance, the tension between Mary and Francis comes to a head. (Set after 1x06. Frary romantic angst.)
1. Chapter 1

Francis watched Mary and Bash's whispered conversation. They looked awfully close, huddled together in a cozy corner.

"Excuse me." he muttered to Olivia and then crossed the room. When he reached them, Bash looked up and his face split into his trademark rakish grin.

"Well, speak of the devil." Bash said lightly. Francis glared at him. Mary, on the other hand, refused to meet his eyes. Feeling guilty, or was his presence so unwelcome?

"Sorry to interrupt," Francis lied, "but I need to speak with my fiancée." He grabbed Mary's hand and strode out of the room with her in tow.

As soon as they arrived at the empty hallway, Mary pulled her hand away, making him stop and turn to her.

"For someone who claims to be able to keep their distance, you're demonstrating very little restraint." she said coldly. "How dare you drag me out as if I were a misbehaving child?"

"You and Bash throwing your relationship in my face _was_ childish." Francis retorted.

"_Me?_" Mary asked incredulously. "I told you there's nothing between me and Bash. You're the one who spent most of the night with Olivia hanging on your arm and your every word."

"Well, you seemed to have no shortage of men hanging around you all night."

Mary scoffed. "First you warn me about my associating with others at Court. Then you 'release' me to do exactly that. And now that I am doing what _you_ suggested, and with much more propriety than yourself, I might add, you're angry with me?" She took a step toward him. "Did you think I would stay in my room, pining for you, while you stayed in your room lying with Olivia?"

Heat rose to his face. "Is that what this is about? Revenge?"

"Of course not. It's about you presuming that I need your permission to speak with anyone." She arched her brow. "What do you want from me, Francis?"

Lord, she was infuriating. He took a deep breath. "We agreed that until our marriage, we could spend our time with other people. But I thought we decided that you can choose anyone, _except_ Bash."

"No,_ you_ decided that on your own, even though you have no right to dictate who I can or cannot see." Mary said with righteous indignation. "And you know full well that it was a grossly unfair ultimatum. As a man, you are free to bed as many women as you like. I cannot be alone in a room with any man for more than a minute without my virtue being called into question. Yet it is you who instructs me? Perhaps I should command that you choose anyone _except_ Olivia?"

He decided to side-step the last question. "Unfair or not, it's what needed to be done." he insisted. "Bash is my brother-"

"And he is my friend." she countered. "But let's say I gave in to your demands and spent my time with someone else. Would that make you happy? Or would you still be jealous and hypocritical?" He frowned, unable to deny that he hated the sight of Mary flirting with other men. She rushed on. "Just as this is your Court and your choice to keep Olivia with you, this is _my_ life and my decision to associate with any duke, count, or bastard I wish to." Mary raised her head and squared her shoulders. "You have no say in the matter. You said yourself, you are a prince. I am a _queen_."

Francis blinked in surprise. She had never pulled rank on him before. But he quickly recovered. "Don't you see, that is exactly why I'm doing this?" he asked, desperation seeping into his voice. "We are royals, but we're acting like children. Mary, I know I've been blinded by jealousy. Blaming you and Bash for the threat of the pagans was hypocrisy, since your only offense was a kiss, the same as mine. I fully admit we all made mistakes." Her expression softened as he continued. "And I know what I'm asking of you is unfair and unreasonable, but that's because I _can't_ see reason, not when every time I close my eyes, I see my fiancée and my brother betraying me." Mary lowered her eyes, and he sighed. "I want to believe you when you tell me you don't return Bash's feelings for you. But right now, I don't know if I can trust either of you. I can't even trust myself. And that's the problem. That's why I am trying to be a responsible ruler, to end this discord between you, me, and my brother once and for all, before it makes us do something we truly regret and can never take back."

She looked back up at him, her eyes dark and intense again. "And you think the way to do that is by severing our ties?"

"_Yes_." he said. "It's the only way we can rule with a clear head and a compassionate heart."

"Forgive me, but I don't think it's worked so far, has it?" she asked. "We can't just pretend to not care."

"We must. We have to stay away from each other." His voice lowered. "Even if it kills us. There's too much at stake for us to listen to our emotions."

She shook her head. "There's too much between us for us to_ ignore_ them."

And suddenly she grabbed his lapels and pulled him into a fiery kiss. He was caught off-guard by her brazen move, but his body reacted instinctively. He kissed her with equal fervor as his arms snaked around her and crushed her against him. Her hands slid up his chest and neck to weave into his hair, bringing his head closer to her so she could deepen their kiss. Their passion was frantic and intense, and Francis found himself walking her backwards until her back hit the stone wall. She leaned against it as his hands roved over her. He swept her hair aside to reveal her milky skin, and he tore his lips away from her mouth to kiss her shoulder and suckle at her neck. Mary gasped his name and held onto him for support. He returned to devour her lips, their moans mingling together. God, how he wanted her.

Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, their intimate moment ended. Mary pressed her hands against his chest and shoved him away. He took a couple of unsteady steps back. They stood there in the corridor, breathing heavily and staring at each other with desire and confusion. After a minute, she swallowed and spoke.

"Even when you push me away, I still want to be with you. And I think we've just proven that you feel the same way." she said quietly. "Even though life would be so much simpler if we decided to have only a political partnership like your parents'... I still want to be with you, complicated uncertainties and all." She closed the distance between them once more, and he had to fight the urge to kiss her again. "We've placed our countries before ourselves, escaped other engagements, survived assassins, pagans, and your mother. The only thing that's stopping us from being together now is each other. We can't let other people or our own fears come between us anymore." She caressed his cheek and kissed him ever so softly. "I believe that Olivia is your past, and I am your future. Now you have to trust in me. My heart is yours and yours alone." She stepped back. "So if you want to be with me, then _be with me_." Another step and a deep breath. "Otherwise...keep your distance, stay out of my life, and leave me, truly, alone."

With a final look of sadness, Mary turned and walked away. Francis could do nothing but watch her go.

* * *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 1: This, like the show, is a piece of historical fiction/fantasy. I tried to avoid being anachronistic, but I do little research on the historical figures/places. I do not own Reign or its characters. Please review if you like or dislike. Thanks!

A/N 2: This is one-shot(?) set after 1x06 "Chosen." Inspired by a discussion with _chrisrose_. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I already wrote in "First Love" how I want the Francis/Olivia and Mary/Bash conflict to resolve, and in "Lion & Dragon" how I think Mary should help Francis deal with his love-vs-duty struggle, both stories ending with happy Frary, so I didn't want to revisit any of that. This is just a scene I'd love to see, with hurt, jealous Francis and bold, proactive Mary. I may add a clearer resolution later? Not sure yet. But I hope this short fic gives some insight into Francis' state of mind, since his behavior in the last episode disappointed some.

A/N 3: Don't forget to vote for Reign for Favorite New TV Drama at the People's Choice Awards! Vote at the PCA site, FB, app, or tweet "Reign #newtvdrama #PeoplesChoice". Let's show the power of Royals!


	2. Chapter 2

_Earlier that day..._

* * *

Francis woke up feeling worse than the night before. Not only did he still hate himself for breaking things off with Mary, he now felt guilt over using Olivia to try to escape his problems. He had told her that he couldn't promise her anything, but he knew she still hoped for more. Careful not to wake her, he quietly got out of bed, threw on his clothes, and slipped out of her room.

What was he doing? Returning to Olivia's arms was meant to solidify his resolve to keep his distance from Mary, but it hadn't brought the clarity he'd hoped it would. He was more confused than ever. His thoughtless kiss with Olivia had led to Mary's kiss with Bash, and now the four of them were trapped in an impossible situation that would leave no one unscathed. Just when he and Mary had finally gotten to a good place, they had all made a mess of everything. It was up to him to untangle it.

* * *

Mary looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't help but fidget. She tried once again to pull her dress up to cover more of her décolletage, but Greer lightly slapped her hand away and told her not to mess with it. Her friends assured her she looked beautiful, but Mary felt extremely uncomfortable. She had never worn a dress so..bold before, and never would have but for Kenna's insistence that the way to win back Francis was to remind him of what he was missing. Lola had remarked that hopefully, what Francis missed most about Mary was her heart, not her curves, but even Aylee admitted that it was a sound plan to regain a young prince's attention. So the girls had searched through all their chests and found, unsurprisingly in Kenna's collection, a striking black silk gown, fitted, embroidered with gold thread, and featuring a shockingly low neckline without any straps to hold up the precarious couture confection. If it weren't for the arm-length matching gloves and her long hair covering her shoulders, Mary would have felt nearly naked. She didn't like resorting to such low tactics, but it couldn't be helped. Olivia was set on seducing her fiancé, under Queen Catherine's orders, no doubt. And Mary had a mission, too. She was sent to France to ensure Scotland's alliance, and she would do whatever it took to keep her engagement to Francis. Besides, she thought, all's fair in love and war, and this was both.

* * *

That evening there was a party to welcome the new English ambassador. As soon as Francis arrived at the entrance hall, Olivia found him. He expected her to pout and ask him where he had disappeared to that morning and why she hadn't seen him all day, but instead she simply smiled and asked him how his day was. They fell into an easy conversation. Everything was easy with Olivia. There was a familiarity and sureness that he found comforting. She was charming and vivacious, and her infectious laughter helped him relax. Francis supposed that was what his father liked about his mistress Diane.

A wave of excited murmurs went through the crowd. They turned to see what the commotion was about: the arrival of Queen Mary. Francis felt his jaw drop and his pulse quicken. She looked absolutely stunning. Mary was always radiant, but tonight was different. Francis had never seen her in such a..daring and undeniably alluring garment. The dress drew the eyes, everyone's it seemed, to her statuesque figure. Olivia must have seen his reaction because her grip on his arm tightened.

As poised as ever under all the extra scrutiny, Mary strode directly to them. Before they could greet her properly, she spoke.

"Excuse me," she said to Olivia, in a tone that sounded more like "_Excuse you_." Francis' mouth twitched in a part-frown, part-smirk. "I need a word with my fiancé." Olivia withered under Mary's imperious gaze, dropped into a hasty curtsy, and left them.

"Mary-" Francis started.

"You've made it very clear that we should stay away from each other." she interrupted. "But there's a room full of English envoys in there, and unless you want another Simon and more threats to my life, we need to maintain the pretense of a strong alliance and unified front."

Her tone was brisk, and he found himself missing her usual warmth. But she was right. "Of course." he said. "Shall I escort you to the party then?" He held out his hand to her.

She looked at it and then back to him. "Can you do this?" she challenged. He honestly didn't know if he could be so close to her without breaking his resolve, but he nodded.

"Good." Mary took his hand, and the crowd parted as he led her through the doors into the banquet hall.

They did the mandatory turn around the room, conversing with French aristocracy and foreign dignitaries, especially the English. Francis could tell she was tense, but he doubted she was as high-strung as he was. It was maddening, pretending to be affectionate while resisting the urge to touch more than her hand and trying not to gaze at her eyes, her lips, her neck, her...

Francis snapped his head up. "Would you like to dance?" he blurted.

Mary raised her eye brows, glanced quickly at the emissary she had been speaking to, then forced a smile. "I'd love to. Please excuse us, Your Excellency." She followed Francis to the dancing area, and they took their places.

"What happened to keeping your distance?" Mary asked quietly when they came together again, palm to palm.

"A dance is expected of us." Francis answered, though it was just an excuse.

They didn't speak for the rest of the dance, but the silence between them said so much. Every meeting of their eyes or hands, every brush of their shoulders or hips, made the air crackle around them. And as the dance wore on, their masks melted and revealed the pain, regret, and longing in their eyes. When the song ended, he led her off the floor. Francis wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he never intended to hurt her; it was just the only way to prevent more pain later.

But then she curtsied, and without a word or a second glance, Mary left him.

* * *

It had been harder than she had imagined it would be. Mary was still frustrated with Francis, but she was mostly hurt. To be so near to him yet separated by a sea of regrets... Trying to calm her erratic heart, she made her way to her friends. They congratulated her; Francis could not take his eyes off of her, they said. With that part of their operation a success, they announced it was time for the next. Mary introduced her ladies-in-waiting to the eligible bachelors in the room. If her friends' first priority was Mary's engagement, then their second was to secure their own. Thankful for their support, she was eager to help them, but according to Kenna, the real purpose was to make Francis mad with jealousy. So even though the Prince's fiancée and the King's new mistress had no need for "husband hunting," as they called it in private, they accompanied Aylee, Greer, and Lola as they played the game of courtly love.

The lords showered them with flattery and charm, and the ladies reciprocated with coy smiles and high praise. The amusing anecdotes, mild flirtations, and droll jests made Mary laugh and feel lighter than she had in months. It was wonderful, to spend time with good friends and good company, to forget, just for a few hours, that she was a queen. At the moment her country was safe, and even Queen Catherine seemed to be nicer to her lately, probably because her plans with Olivia were working, but at least Mary needn't fear for her life on that end. The night was a pleasant reminder for Mary. When she wasn't so focused on Francis, she could enjoy a festive mood and simple companionship. She could be happy without him after all.

Perhaps Francis was right; maybe it was best to keep things neutral between them until their marriage. It made her life easier. Didn't it?

* * *

Bash leaned in a dark corner of the room and observed the scene. He wondered if Francis knew how obvious he was, "secretly" watching Mary from the edges of the crowd. Not that he could blame him, or any other red-blooded man in the room for that matter, when Mary looked especially enchanting. She seemed to be having a good time, and it made Bash smile. It was a departure from his usual devil-may-care attitude of only seeking his own pleasure. But he cared for Mary, and she deserved to be happy, not to be a pawn in politicians' games.

When Mary looked up, perhaps drawn by the intensity of his gaze, he raised his glass to her. She excused herself from the group of friends and admirers around her and came to him.

"Good evening, Bash." she greeted politely.

"Mary," he bowed. "You're looking ravishing. I assume your enticing ensemble is for Francis' benefit, or torture, as the case may be?" She blushed prettily. "Well, I can tell you that it's working like a charm." He nodded to the opposite corner, and she turned to see Francis frowning at the two of them and ignoring Olivia. Mary turned back to Bash, supremely unfazed.

"You're not afraid to be seen with me by Francis?" asked Bash, his eyebrow cocked.

"No, I'm not." Mary said immediately, which gratified him greatly.

"I'm honored that you would risk Francis' wrath for me." He grinned. "Then again, you're not the one whose life he threatened." he added, only half-jokingly.

She huffed. "He's being ridiculous." Then her vexed expression turned serious. "However..I do think we should keep our relationship strictly platonic, and public, Bash."

"Why, because Francis demands it?" he asked, daring the proud queen to defy her fiancé rather than submit to him.

"No, because I do." Mary stated firmly, looking at him square in the eyes. "This isn't about Francis. It's what I want. It's best for all involved because what happened between us was a mistake I will _never_ make again. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but these are mine. So we either continue, as friends, or..I will be forced to cut off all contact with you."

Bash's smug smirk disappeared. He knew he could never have Mary, but to never talk with her or see her smile again? He swallowed hard before speaking. "Then I guess I have no choice." he sighed. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable. You know I am always here for you, Mary. And if what you need right now is a friend, then that is what I will be for you."

Mary nodded apologetically. "Thank you, Bash. However Francis feels, I do value our friendship."

Bash ignored the pang in his heart. "As do I." he said with a sad smile. This would have to be enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Francis heading straight for them. "But I also value my life, so perhaps I'll let you explain our situation to my brother, Mary. He's coming this way."

She closed her eyes and appeared to steel herself for the coming confrontation.

* * *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~To Be Concluded~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 1: This, like the show, is a piece of historical fiction/fantasy. I tried to avoid being anachronistic, but I do little research on the historical figures/places. I do not own Reign or its characters. Please review if you like or dislike. Thanks!

A/N 2: A flashback chapter! Trying something new; hope it doesn't fail/clash terribly. Just wanted to add more context, insight, and hopefully humor to the story. More of Francis and Mary's POV, plus supportive Bash (there, _chrisrose_, some Mash hope.;) The confrontation in Ch.1 continues in Ch.3 (last).

A/N 3: Mary's dress is based on this promo photo from 1x07: [t.[co]/ZBKc7syg4a]. I hope it tortures Francis. XD

A/N 4: Don't forget to vote for Reign for Favorite New TV Drama at the People's Choice Awards! Vote at the PCA site, FB, app, or tweet "Reign #newtvdrama #PeoplesChoice". Let's show the power of Royals!


	3. Chapter 3

_Later that night..._

* * *

Francis stalked through the castle. He was in no mood to return to the party after his encounter with Mary, which had been both passionate and frustrating in more ways than one. He sighed heavily. Every time he tried to do the right thing, it only made the situation worse. Sending troops to aid Scotland, telling Mary to wed Tomas, taking responsibility for Olivia, then being honest about their kiss. Even his attempt to protect Bash, Mary, and himself from divided loyalties and the worst pain backfired. His doubts ate at his insides. If he couldn't even handle his personal life, how could he have the confidence to rule a kingdom? And was it right to burden another person with his problems? Mary had her own country to think of. Once again, his thoughts returned to Mary, and to her ultimatum.

His wanderings eventually led him to his room, and Francis immediately felt exhausted and ready to collapse into his feather bed. But when he entered, he found it already occupied. Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him.

"Olivia," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?" He hastily shut the door.

"You promised me a dance, but then you disappeared." she said. "I'm here to collect." Her mouth curved into a coquettish smile.

A moment's hesitation, then Francis rushed to her and pressed his lips against hers until they were lying on his bed. He needed to be with Olivia in order to erase Mary, or make Mary erase him. But although his mind was determined to forget her, his body remembered. When he kissed Olivia, he tasted Mary. When he buried his face in Olivia's hair, he caught the scent of Scottish lavender. When Olivia whispered his name, he heard Mary's voice. His fingertips felt Mary's skin, and his body felt Mary beneath him, the memory of their secret rendezvous by the lake rushing back in vivid detail. With a gasp, Francis pulled away and rolled off of Olivia to the other side of the bed.

"Francis?" Olivia reached out, but he sat straight up before she touched his chest. "What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up, too, and resting her hand on his shoulder instead.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm not being fair to you, Olivia."

"...You mean to Mary."

"To any of us."

She sighed. "Francis, I told you, I can be whatever you want me to be. A confidante, a comfort. Just tell me what you need." Her hand was rubbing his back. He stayed her arm and looked at her.

"I thought what I needed was an escape. But there is none." The epiphany almost made him want to laugh.

He took her hand. "It was wrong of me to look for it with you." Her brow furrowed. "Olivia, you shouldn't have to live at the mercy of royal whims. You deserve a better life than this."

"What if I don't want a life without you?" she asked with a mixture of stubbornness and sadness.

"Find one. Please. Because you deserve better than me, too." He kissed her forehead. "Forgive me." And he left the bed, the room, and Olivia behind.

* * *

Mary stared at the canopy of her bed, her mind mulling over the night's events. She flushed when she recalled the way Francis had held her, kissed her, and touched her. It had taken all of her will power to shove him away. At least she had gotten her point across (she hoped), because she couldn't go on with the way things were. She was tired. Tired of the politics and the complications, of living and dying every time she got closer to, then farther from, Francis. The politics, they had no control over, but their relationship was up to them. Stay apart and make life easier, or stay together and make life harder? She understood it was a difficult decision, but she also understood her own heart. And when Mary knew what she wanted, she fought for it with everything she had. It was up to Francis now.

There was a knock on the door. It was still too early for the party to be over, she mused as she pulled on a dressing gown. She opened the door and was a bit shocked to see the subject of her contemplation standing there, as if she had summoned him with her thoughts.

Francis opened his mouth but stopped short. He had hurried to her room to speak with Mary, but now that he was facing her, words failed him. Instead, he took in her loose, unadorned hair and her plain, white nightgown and robe. "You changed already."

That wasn't at all what Mary had expected him to say, but she replied, "Yes, I-I couldn't relax when I wore that dress."

"Truthfully, neither could I." he muttered. Was it her imagination, or was his face turning pink? He cleared his throat. "I much prefer you like this. As yourself. Just Mary."

She couldn't help but smile just a little at that, but she reminded herself not to be swayed by his gentle blue eyes. She turned stern. "Why have you come here, Francis?"

He swallowed nervously, then said. "I came to apologize. You were right, my 'solution' wasn't working. Trying to deny our feelings doesn't help us deal with them. I was being an idiot."

"A noble idiot." Mary corrected, and they chuckled softly. "I know you meant well."

"I did. I wanted to save us from future disaster. So I turned to someone else so I could keep my distance from you." Mary lowered her eyes, but he saw the hurt in them. He held her hand until she looked back up at him. "But it didn't work. Every moment I was with Olivia, I thought of you, Mary, and it felt like a betrayal, not just to you, but to myself. I realized I can't stay away from you. Not when you're always with me. Here." He placed her hand over his heart and smiled at her. "No escape."

Mary suddenly felt breathless. "Does that mean you choose to be with me?" Her face lit up with hope, but Francis' darkened.

"I..I'm not sure."

Her heart plummeted once again. "I don't understand."

"I do want to be with you, but after seeing you tonight..." he trailed off.

Her irritation was evident when she said, "If you're talking about Bash-"

"I'm not. I believe you." he assured her. "I can't say the same for my brother, but I trust you. It's not about other men."

"Then what?" she asked, exasperated. "Tell me." She squeezed his hand.

"I saw you, laughing and having a good time. Carefree." He looked down at their joined hands. "Happier without me."

She shook her head. "Francis, _you_ make me happy."

"Do I?" He looked at her, anguish in his eyes. "It seems the only thing I've given you is tears."

"That's not true." Mary cupped his face in her hand. "You've given me more joy in one kiss than I ever thought possible. And I would trade all the laughter from all the parties in France for a few tears with you." He gave a small, reluctant smile. "You've given me a home, and for someone who hasn't seen her own country in years, who always felt like an outsider, that means the world to me."

Francis turned his head to kiss her palm. "I'm willing to face anything, all the complexities and hardships, for the chance to be with you." he told her. "But are you sure about this, Mary? Because there's no doubt that staying apart would save us many headaches and much heartache. Being together won't be easy."

"Nothing worth fighting for ever is." She shifted closer and kissed him.

It was sweet and pure and warm, like Mary. After warring with himself for so long, Francis felt his whole being relax as he kissed her. He combed his fingers through her hair, and his senses were filled with lavender, silky skin, and the perfect way she fit in his arms. The reality was so much better than the fantasy.

"Mary," he murmured against her lips, and she shivered. She loved the way he said her name and the way he made her feel. There was a sense of belonging and safety. It wasn't that she needed to lose herself in him to feel happy, strong, or complete. She could be all those things without him. But when she was with Francis, Mary felt them even more.

Enthralled with her slow, sensuous kiss, it took a minute for Francis to realize that they were inching further into her room...and perilously close to her bed. He broke away. "I can't. I have to go." he said quickly.

"What?" Her eyes showed some alarm. Was he running away from her again?

"No, I mean-" He took a breath. "I am fully committed to being with you, Mary. If you'll have me." She laughed softly and nodded. "I just can't be with you..here..." He glanced shyly toward the bed.

"Oh." she said and blushed even more. "But I will see you tomorrow?" she asked tentatively.

"Most definitely." he promised. Then, "We can make this work."

"You mean we can rule our countries and our hearts together? Yes, I believe we can."

They smiled affectionately. Hand in hand, they walked to the door, and with one last kiss, they bid each other good night.

That night, Mary and Francis fell into a peaceful sleep, eager to wake up to a new day and a new start together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 1: This, like the show, is a piece of historical fiction/fantasy. I tried to avoid being anachronistic, but I do little research on the historical figures/places. I do not own Reign or its characters. Please review if you like or dislike. Thanks!

A/N 2: I didn't want to revisit old themes, but I couldn't finish the story without going over Olivia and another Frary reunion, so sorry about the rehash? (I've run out of ways for Frary to express their feelings. XD;) Also, sorry if the change in time and tone in Ch.2 was jarring (too late to switch it with Ch.1). Well, hope you like the conclusion. Thanks for the follows, favs, and reviews!

A/N 3: Dedicated to _chrisrose_. Thanks for the stimulating discussion and inspiration!

A/N 4: Don't forget to vote for Reign for Favorite New TV Drama at the People's Choice Awards! Vote at the PCA site, FB, app, or tweet "Reign #newtvdrama #PeoplesChoice". Let's show the power of Royals!


End file.
